AWooing He Would Go
by Skitty-Kat
Summary: Legolas decides to give Aragorn help with his attempts at flirting by pretending to be a woman so that Aragorn can practice. Slash, but very fluffy. Shakespearean influences.


A-Wooing He Did Go  
  
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Disclaimer: Aragorn and Legolas were created by JRR Tolkien. I bet he didn't think of doing this with them though.  
  
Author's Notes: This fic came about after I saw a performance of Shakespeare's 'As You Like It'. The idea stuck itself in my head, and I've been trying to get it finished for a while. I'm trying to clear some of the plot bunnies that are littering my floor. They're starting to get vicious.  
  
Warning! This is SLASH. Mildly so, but still slash. That means two males who like each other very much, okay? Also, extreme fluff warning.  
  
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The woods were beautiful that summer. They were always so, but this particular summer they were spectacular. The green leaves shone in the sunlight, creating an ever-moving pattern on the mossy ground. It was uncommonly warm, allowing animals and birds to bask in the sun's rays. Blackbirds spread their wings in a fan, soaking up the heat. It was quiet, as if everything in the woods of Imladris was in a kind of lethargy, too lazy to move.  
  
Two who were enjoying the warmth were a Man and an Elf, relaxing in a small clearing. The sun shone down on them gently. Stretched out comfortable on the grass, they lay side by side, conversing idly together.  
  
"And then she said that she didn't want that much of an age difference!" Aragorn finished, with a mortified look on his face. His companion laughed.  
  
"Well, what do you expect?" Legolas asked, holding his sides. "Any of the Elves round here are rather older than any Man, even one of your lineage."  
  
Aragorn looked slightly petulant. "I'm not unattractive, am I?" he asked.  
  
"No, of course not," Legolas replied, still chuckling, "but it seems that you obviously lack practice in seduction."  
  
"And I suppose you've had plenty of it," Aragorn muttered, a bit put out, "with all the experience of your years."  
  
Legolas laughed again, making no comment. The pair lay in silence for a moment, before Aragorn suddenly turned to the Elf.  
  
"Could you teach me?" he asked.  
  
His friend raised an eyebrow. "How to woo a woman?" He smirked slightly. "The best way to improve would be practical experience, not book learning."  
  
Aragorn sighed impatiently. "But there are no women around here," he said, "only Elves."  
  
"I have an idea," Legolas said slowly, a grin starting across his face, "I shall pretend to be your lady and act so, then you must try and woo me."  
  
"You cannot be serious!" Aragorn scoffed, after a moment of shocked surprise. "I think your mind has become confused. You, unless I have been greatly deceived, are a male Elf."  
  
"So we shall put on a pretence!" Legolas laughed. "It will be fun even if not an education for you."  
  
Aragorn paused, realising that his friend was completely serious. "I suppose it will," he said unwillingly, "but how should we start?"  
  
"Well, suppose you met me in the woods, then what would you do? Say you came out from between those trees."  
  
Aragorn frowned for a moment, then stood and walked to the edge of the clearing, where he stopped. "I suppose I would stop here upon seeing such a beautiful Elf-maiden, being, of course, struck dumb by her sheer beauty." He paused, cocking his head to one side and smiling sardonically. "And then I would come over and sit by her, like so." He walked confidently across the clearing and sat down beside Legolas, right up close.  
  
"And I would be obliged to move some way away, for the sake of decency," Legolas said, doing so. He sat demurely with his legs on one side, resting his hands on his knees. As Aragorn made to move closer, he held up a hand. "You must be more subtle. Use your conversation."  
  
Aragorn scowled, but brightened his expression when he saw Legolas give him a disapproving look. "So," he said, attempting to be suave, "what is your name, fair lady?"  
  
"My name is Legolas, strange man," the Elf replied. Upon seeing Aragorn's blank face on what to say next, he whispered, "some compliment would be in order."  
  
"S-such a pretty name," Aragorn stammered, "suitable for such a pretty maid." He grinned. "Why, you don't look a day over two thousand."  
  
Legolas smiled, dipping his head coyly. "Such compliments, and from a man I do not know. What, pray, is your name?"  
  
"I am called Aragorn, lady," that man replied, sliding a little closer. Legolas raised an eyebrow and tutted primly.  
  
"You should not sit so close," he said, "we are not chaperoned and it is not proper."  
  
"But who is there to disapprove?" Aragorn asked, moving even closer. "We are alone. The creatures of the wood tell no tales."  
  
"I shall disapprove," Legolas said, "you should not be so forward, sir. You move too fast." His pointed look indicated to Aragorn that there would be no argument.  
  
The man sighed. "So," he said, again floundering for something to say, "do you come here often?"  
  
"When I am visiting friends," Legolas answered, "though not often enough. I would love to come as often as I can, for the woods are so beautiful."  
  
"The only beauty I need is directly in front of me," Aragorn said, looking straight at the Elf, "and it is lovelier than any I have seen."  
  
Legolas almost burst into laughter then, but restrained himself, allowing only a small smile to creep onto his lips. Remembering his part, he looked down coyly, feigning shyness. His right hand dropped to the grass, where it pulled at the green strands gently. He looked up again to see Aragorn suddenly beside him.  
  
"You have a twig caught in your hair, my lady," Aragorn offered by way of explanation, "allow me to remove it." He moved behind the Elf, and Legolas could feel his fingers running through his hair. Aragorn was kneeling, and one of his knees was just touching Legolas' back. "You have such beautiful hair," he said.  
  
"Is 'beautiful' the only compliment you have in your vocabulary?" Legolas asked with a slight frown.  
  
"It is the only one I need for you," Aragorn responded, still busy with Legolas' hair. The Elf smiled. He had to approve of these tactics; they worked splendidly. As Aragorn pulled slightly harder at a lock of hair, Legolas used it as an opportunity to lean back further. His back was now just brushing the front of Aragorn's tunic. They sat like that for a moment in silence.  
  
"This twig must be firmly tangled indeed to take such a time to remove," Legolas commented wryly.  
  
"Almost finished," Aragorn said cheerfully. He combed the hair through his fingers. "There. All done." He chuckled as he returned to his place beside the Elf. "Now you more greatly resemble a woman."  
  
Legolas' hand rose to his head. Aragorn had undone the braid from the back of his hair so that the strands fell around his face.  
  
"Your kindness is boundless," Legolas said, with only a hint of sarcasm. "What have I done to merit such generosity?"  
  
"A gorgeous creature such as yourself needs no reason to be given my humble help," Aragorn replied, taking Legolas' hand between his own, "you are my definition of beauty; your very presence delights my sight and all my senses. Without you, I will shrivel up and die, like a plant denied the sun."  
  
Legolas blushed, though Aragorn was unsure whether it was feigned or not. "Surely you cannot compare me to the sun?"  
  
"I must," Aragorn said, drawing closer, "for it is the only way I can speak of the fairness of your face. I fear that to stare too long at you will destroy my sight, but I would willingly stare until my eyes burn out, as long as my last sight was of you."  
  
"Then look away, good sir," Legolas said with mock horror, "for I cannot have you blinded on my account!"  
  
"But to not look would be a worse torture," Aragorn said passionately, "if I never meet you again, I shall sicken. Blighted affection is a poison that spreads fast."  
  
Legolas made his eyes go wide to look at the man. "Then what may I do to heal this sickness? Perhaps Lord Elrond would know?" A faint mischief entered his tone.  
  
Aragorn pointedly ignored the last comment. "Perhaps," he said, "a kiss from your delicate lips?"  
  
Legolas paused, then leant over. Aragorn's arms slid around his waist and pulled him closer. They were scant inches away when Legolas laughed.  
  
"It does not seem that you need practice," he said, "that was as pretty a piece of courting as I have seen." He made to move away, but Aragorn's arms still held him tight.  
  
"Maybe it's just that I've finally found the right Elf," the man whispered.  
  
"I-," Legolas began, but got no further. Aragorn's lips pressed onto his and remained there for some minutes. When they separated, Legolas was smirking.  
  
"I believe you have," he said. Aragorn laughed, pulling Legolas closer and hiding the smirk on the Elf's face with one of his own.  
  
He had wooed and won.  
  
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The End.  
  
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End file.
